


making a statement

by khayr



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Headcanon, aka 'lavellan chooses a unconventional mount', drabble ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:40:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3985273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khayr/pseuds/khayr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aela took a moment to look the thing over again; it was horse-sized, certainly, but far leaner than the traditional mount. Scales, spines, teeth, talons… and glimmering, golden eyes that shone with intelligence. It was more than a simple beast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	making a statement

**Author's Note:**

> Just something that's been floating around in my head for a while. My inquisitor uses a dracolisk mount in-game and I've been laughing thinking about the conversations that must have been had over her unconventional choice, hahaha. I've been headcanoning that rather than "breaking" in a dracolisk the dynamic between mount and rider is more based on mutual respect and strength. 
> 
> Mostly self-indulgent, but please enjoy!

“Are you sure about this? You can still change your mind, you know.”

 

Now that she was staring her request in the face, Aela almost did- for a fraction of a moment. She set her face hard, the white ink of her vallaslin crinkling as her eyes narrowed. There could be no backing down now. They’d walked all the way down from the keep to the flats outside of the refugee camp just to do this.

 

“I’ve got this, Dorian,” she replied casually, waving him off before adjusting her gloves, “I fell out of the Fade, I think I can handle a lizard horse.”

 

“It’s not a lizard horse, it’s a _dracolisk_ ,” he corrected, “Basking Longma. Distinct difference. The fact that Tevinter nobility gave up breeding this line because it was _too difficult to manage_ should be enough of a warning. It took several persuasive letters to even get _this_ one.”

 

“Took two stable hands to saddle that thing,” Varric added, perched on a low stone wall with a book in hand, “Bit the shit out of the one in charge of the head.”

 

Aela took a moment to look the thing over again; it was horse-sized, certainly, but far leaner than the traditional mount. Scales, spines, teeth, talons… and glimmering, golden eyes that shone with intelligence. It was more than a simple beast. Dennet had been correct in his warnings about the animal, but the Dalish Inquisitor was determined to make a statement.

 

“Don’t tell Cullen,” she muttered under her breath, slapping Dorian on the back. She crossed the distance between them and the dracolisk, taking the reins from the shaking stable boy with a firm hand. This was a creature that would not simply be broken, but Aela was confident it would not need to come to that. Her first approach would be respect, not fear. If she landed on her ass in the mud, well… Dorian could at least say ‘I told you so’.

 

The dracolisk responded to her sure movements more favorably than it had to the nervous stable hands; the idle prancing stilled and the snapping jaw and grinding teeth quieted some. Softly, barely audible, Aela whispered to the beast in elvish. Simple sentences, words of encouragement in a gentle tone. It didn’t have normal ears like a hart or horse, but its eyes were focused on her as it listened. A rumble of a growl sounded deep in its chest, but it didn’t stop her from continuing. Reins still in hand she stepped closer, hands running over its neck and chest as she ignored the huffs and grunts that sounded periodically. There would be no backing down from either party here.

 

Aela resigned to get into the saddle and test her wits now rather than never. She worked quickly, but without the nervous urgency the previous handler had used. Looping the reins over its head first, she stood alongside the beast and gripped the saddle to anchor herself.

 

“If you break your arm I’m telling Curly what happened,” Varric called, standing alongside Dorian now. His book had been closed and set aside; apparently this was far more interesting than whatever he had been reading. It was a risk Aela was willing to take; with practiced ease she pulled herself up and onto the dracolisk’s back, fingers winding tightly around the reins and feet sliding into the stirrups. For a moment, nothing happened.

 

Then the beast made its move.

 

If she had been human and not an elf, Aela was positive she’d have been on the ground with the first angry thrash that came. Her lighter weight gave her the advantage as the dracolisk went through its paces, head trying to reach around to bite even as it twisted and turned in rapid succession. She tightened her legs against its sides, leaning low to keep herself centered on its back.

 

This continued for a good five or ten minutes. Clearly no one had managed to stay seated this long before; the dracolisk bucked once, twice, and was leaning back to rear upwards when Aela reigned it in hard. The beast let out an angry bellow, huffing and hissing as she yanked one direction on the reins, pulling it tighter until its head was turned as far as it would go.

 

“Are you done?” she asked, holding tight even as the dracolisk tried to pull back the other direction, “Surely you’ve realized this isn’t getting you anywhere.” The beast stilled. Its eyes were fixed on her, and as Aela felt its muscles slowly relax beneath her, she released the tension on the one side of the reins bit by bit. Somewhere behind her she heard Dorian take in a sharp breath. This was the one chance she was going to get to solidify a relationship with the creature.

 

When she had loosened her grip enough that the dracolisk could face forward again, she waited a moment. It didn’t retaliate, but rather lowered its head into a neutral position. After it seemed comfortable, she took a leap of faith and released her hold on the reins completely.

 

“Maker,” Varric was mumbling, “She really is going to get herself killed.”

 

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t holding her breath. Her fingers touched the leathery hide of the dracolisk’s neck, rubbing soothing circles wherever she could reach. It seemed to be thinking as it craned its head around to look at her again, golden eyes vaguely watching her. When it finally made up its mind, the creature shook out its whole body and dipped its muzzle down to sniff around in the dry grass.

 

It was the moment Aela had been hoping for; she patted the patch of scales under her hand and slid one foot out of the stirrup, hoisting herself down and off of the dracolisk’s back. When she came to stand at its shoulder it turned around to her, sticking its muzzle into her gloved hands with a quiet snuffle and huff.

 

“No snacks here, _ir abelas_.” she mumbled, scratching under its jaw. “If you behave, perhaps I might bring you something later.” There was only a grunt in reply before something else drew the dracolisk’s attention. A growl rumbled again, so low she could feel it in her bones.

 

“You let her _on_ that thing?”

 

“You think if I told her no she would have listened? Surely you’re smarter than that, Commander.” Dorian was laughing despite Cullen’s tone, waving him off and gesturing to where she was standing with the beast. “She clearly has this under control.”

 

“Think of the stories, Cullen,” Aela called, “The _savage_ Dalish Inquisitor astride a _vicious_ beast, travelling across Thedas sealing rifts in the Fade.” The distraught look he gave her only caused her to burst into laughter. Creators, she loved the man even if he was ridiculous from time to time.

 

“I don’t think Josephine is going to like cleaning up that mess,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face, “We’re leaving for Halamshiral in a week and you decided now was a good time to master that thing?”

 

“No better time but the present, _ma vhenan_ ,” she hooked her fingers into the bridle, guiding the dracolisk with her to where the others were standing. It huffed and grunted when they got close, but Aela kept her hold firm. “Would you rather me travel on the back of a deer that spooks when it thunders, or with a dracolisk that will leap to fight a pack of wolves? When we pass through hostile territory, would bandits not think twice about attempting an ambush if they’ll lose an arm in the process?” Feeling the beast beside her settle again, she released her hold on the bridle and gently touched her fingers to its chest. “I am not doing this out of spite, I promise you this.”

 

“I know,” he resigned, shoulders slackening as he looked the mount over, “I know. Maker’s breath, I just worry. They are not exactly known for their endearing temperament.” What he meant was ‘ _we don’t have these in Ferelden and I don’t really know if I should treat it as a lizard or a horse_ ’. Aela chuckled softly, leaning up to press a gentle kiss against Cullen’s cheek.

 

“He needs a name,” Dorian cut in, “When all this is said and done and they write songs of you and your faithful steed it won’t do to have him remembered as just another beast.”

 

“Him?” Aela glanced back, looking over the dark patterning and cream-colored belly. He blinked, gaze turning to her with that intelligent gleam in his eyes again. He was listening. Waiting. “ _Revas_.”

 

“You know I don’t speak elven, Sunshine,” Varric said, “You going to enlighten us?”

 

“Freedom.” It was Cullen that spoke, his attention on the dracolisk as it stared intently back at him. “It means freedom.”

 

“Fitting,” Dorian muttered, gesturing back up the hill towards Skyhold, “I believe you should be the one to inform Dennet that Revas will be living in the stables from now on. I’m sure he’ll be _delighted_.”

 

“I’m sure he’ll be absolutely thrilled.” Aela chuckled quietly, moving to pull herself up into the saddle again. The dracolisk huffed a bit, but ultimately did nothing more but shift on his feet. She clicked her tongue softly, only having to ask for him to move to get a response. “I’ll see you two at dinner,” she added, nodding to her companions, “And I’ll see _you_ in the war room in an hour.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck but said nothing as she shifted her weight in the saddle, leaning easily with the beast as she set off in a surprisingly delicate canter back up the hill.

 

“I still can’t believe she didn’t settle for something a little more traditional,” Cullen grumbled after she was gone, trudging after her with the other two in tow, “Josephine is going to have a heart attack trying to explain this one.”

 

“She’ll figure it out,” Varric kicked a rock out of his path and looked up the hill where Aela had reined her mount into a trot through the gates, “Maker knows it’s not the craziest thing she’s done as Inquisitor.”

 

“True,” Dorian rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “Court approval can’t go much lower than it will be already since Aela is undeniably Dalish. You know how the Orlesians are. She’ll make it work.”

 

Cullen groaned, running his hands over his face and then through his hair. “I know she will,” he replied, “ _That’s_ the terrifying part.”


End file.
